Closer
by Semblance of Sanity
Summary: "No matter who we are, no matter what our circumstances, our feelings and emotions are universal. And music has always been a great way to make people aware of that connection." - Josh Groban :: A collection inspired by the songs of Josh Groban's albums "A Collection" and "Closer," with the titles corresponding to song titles. :: Written for the Album Challenge [REVIVED].
1. Broken Vow

_I close my eyes and dream of you and then I realize_  
_There's more to love than only bitterness and lies._  
_I close my eyes.__  
_

_Peter Pettigrew on best friends and broken vows. _

* * *

Late at night, when the world is quiet and cold, I think about them sometimes, though I try not to. My friends.

They named me right, I think, but then I remember that the Dark Lord is all powerful and he loves me. It was the right thing to do.

I mean, it was me or them. They would have understood.

Right?

And it didn't turn out so bad - did it? Only James and Lily died...I mean, little Harry, he was fine.

And Padfoot, he only went to Azkaban...

Remus - well, Padfoot was the only one who thought he did it anyway, and him not being able to find work was on account of him being - being a -

.

.

.

Oh, my friends.

* * *

_I'd give away my soul_  
_To hold you once again_  
_And never let this promise end _


	2. Weeping

_I knew a man who lived in fear_  
_It was huge, it was angry,_  
_It was drawing near._  
_Behind his house, a secret place,_  
_Was the shadow of the demon_  
_He could never face._

_Summary: Harry Potter and fear._

* * *

Night was always the worst. The ghosts would return and grab him by the robes, pulling him into a world of terror and grief until he ran into consciousness, drenched in sweat and screaming.

So he stopped sleeping.

The shadows were almost as bad; whispering memories and doubts, tugging on his hair until he wretched away and turned on all the lights. The TV joined, for white noise, and then the radio. He would pull out old case files and sit with coffee until the sun peeked up and he would pass out, exhausted, only to wake up a few hours later with his alarm.

Work didn't help. Everyone was an enemy, everyone had alterior motives. The increased senses he gained from the battle never went away. He was always on edge. There was always a threat.

His boss was getting tired of sending apology letters, but he was Harry fucking Potter, and he ended up being right just enough to discard the times he was wrong.

Ginny was always there, even when he didn't want her to be. He knew how much worse it would be without her.

She had been a cool relief in his fevered dreams, a strong hand when he was drowning in loneliness and despair. She catered to his weird routine, held him while he weeped for Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Colin, Snape, Dumbledore, Fred -

She deserved much better than to be awoken by screaming every night. She deserved better than someone too unstable to start a family. She deserved better than a man she had to talk down from sleep-induced hallucinations and hysteria. She deserved better than someone who was wired to attack whenever she touched him.

She deserved better than him. But how could he ask her to leave when he needed her so?

.

He awoke to crying, in the quiet hollow between dusk and dawn.

She was on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed. "What are we going to do?"

He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her to his chest and let her cry on his neck.

She leaned away after a bit, looking into his eyes and touching his face, his hair, his chest, while he allowed it.

"Aren't you scared?" she whispered, her voice tiny and shaking.

"No," he lied, and kissed her.

He cried into her hair while she slept.

* * *

_It doesn't matter now, it's over anyhow_  
_He tells the world that it's sleeping_  
_But as the night came round_  
_I heard its lonely sound_  
_It wasn't roaring, it was weeping_  
_It wasn't roaring, it was weeping._


	3. Awake

_If I could make these moments endless_

_If I could stop the winds of change_

_If we just keep our eyes wide open_

_Then everything would stay the same_

_Remus on holding onto moments and warm bodies._

* * *

It was the small moments, he thought, that made him want to freeze time or wrap his little family up and never leave the house.

Teddy's first laugh, small and unsure as he stole Remus' heart for the thousandth time.

Falling asleep on the couch because they were too exhausted to find the bedroom.

Tonks, laughing with Teddy as she turned her hair blue and watched him do the same.

Dancing in the moonlight because she wanted to, even though he hated both the moonlight and dancing - and she couldn't actually dance.

Or mornings, when he woke with the sun and stayed in bed for hours, listening to Teddy breathe in the corner and holding his wife to his chest.

Yes, the mornings were the hardest to let go of. The world so still and silent, the birds happy outside the window. He could imagine there was no war, no threat to his family, no werewolf inside him.

Sometimes she would wake with him. She would turn into him and stroke his face, reading the fears there, and kiss him, slow and sweet.

And he would cling to the moment, pretending he didn't have to get out of bed and try to save the world, pretending that the full moon wasn't in two days, pretending Death Eaters couldn't find them, pretending that Teddy most certainly wouldn't be a werewolf, pretending -

But just pretending.

He would remember and fear would grip his heart as he gripped her tighter.

"Hey. Hey," she would whisper. "It's okay. Everything's okay."

"Right now," he'd remind her and she'd smile.

"Exactly. So what are you worried for?"

And he'd kiss her until he wasn't worried anymore.

* * *

_So keep me awake for every moment_

_Give us more time to be this way_

_We can't stay like this forever_

_But I can have you next to me, today_

_One of my favorite songs on the album for one of my favorite pairings. (:_


	4. You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)

_Don't give up_  
_It's just the weight of the world_  
_When your heart's heavy_  
_I...I will lift it for you_

_Xenophilius on Dirigible Plums and wise daughters. _

* * *

"Daddy," Luna greeted, hopping into the kitchen with a basket of Dirigible Plums. Xenophilius smiled gently and accepted the basket.

"Wash them like this, dear," he instructed, and, as with everything he handed her, she quickly mastered the task exactly as he showed her. He sat atop the counter, watching his little Luna as he waited for the tea to boil. She was so much like her mother...

He felt as if he would choke, and cringed when he coughed a bit loud, but Luna didn't even flinch.

"What are they for?" she asked after a bit.

"What, the Dirigibles?"

She nodded, and the tea whistled. He hopped down, glad for something to occupy his thoughts and his hands. "Ah, yes. Fascinating, aren't they? You've noticed how they grow upside-down, yes? Some believe they possess a sense of direction - that's where the name comes from, dear - and the points 'point the way,' as it were." He paused, ruminating on that theory.

"Daddy?"

"Mm? Yes. Right. What was the question?" He pushed his hair behind his ear and returned to the tea.

"I haven't asked it yet," she laughed, light and breathy. So like her mother... "What do you believe? About the Dirigibles, I mean."

"Ah! Well, Rowena Ravenclaw wore Dirigibles on her diadem, you know," he carried their tea to the living room, and she eagerly bounced along after him. "To enhance the ability to accept the unexpected. Dirigibles, my love, help one to be guided. There are forces at work in this world. Dirigibles help one to accept their direction."

She sipped her tea with her head tilted and didn't say anything more, so neither did he.

She took their mugs back to the kitchen when they finished, and returned with a single plum, which she held out to him. "For direction, and for acceptance of the things you cannot fix," she told him, and skipped off, leaving him wondering how a 9 year old had gotten to be so wise.

Her mother, obviously. She was certainly nothing like him.

He was selfish, she was giving. He mourned for his wife, Luna mourned for her father's pain. The poor, sweet child.

He looked down at the plum in his hand and smiled even as he felt tears roll down his cheeks. He certainly wouldn't need the Dirigible's direction while he had his little Luna.

* * *

_Don't give up_  
_It's just the hurt that you hide_  
_When you're lost inside_  
_I...I will be there to find you_

_Gah. I feel evil. I'm sorry, Xenophilius!_


	5. Caruso

_He felt the pain in the music and got up from the piano,_  
_But when he saw the moon emerging from a cloud_  
_Even death seemed sweeter to him._  
_He looked in the girl's eyes, those eyes as green as the sea,_  
_then suddenly a tear fell and he believed he was drowning._

* * *

Ron turned the dial of his radio, listening to the crackle and screech. _No news is good news_, he reminded himself for the billionth time. This was Harry and Hermione they were talking about. They were the best at this kind of stuff. They were the best at any kind of stuff, really. _They're okay._

But he worried anyway. He should have stayed. He should have stayed. Why hadn't he stayed? Oh, Merlin, why hadn't he stayed?

A calming piano song interrupted the harsh white noise, and Ron went back to washing the dishes.

He saw their faces behind his eyes, an eternal punishment for his sins, a never-ending vigil for his friends who might be dead. He remembered their faces when he left: Harry, hurt and angry; Hermione, heartbroken, with tears in her eyes beautiful brown eyes -

A plate slipped from his hands. "_Reparo,_" and no, he wasn't crying. He wasn't -

He was crying, sobbing, rocking back and forth on the kitchen floor, hugging his knees.

He was sorry, so sorry.

- so, so sorry -

Would she forgive him?

(Harry, too)

He hadn't meant it - any of it. It was the bloody locket. Merlin, he hoped they had killed the bloody thing already. He hoped Hermione wasn't wearing it.

He hoped she knew he loved her.

(Harry, too - _bloody hell_ - like a brother!)

* * *

_I love you very much,_  
_Very, very much, you know_  
_It has become a chain_  
_That melts the blood inside the veins, you know_

_Note: the song is in Italian. This is a translation provided by the vast InterWeb. It is quite possibly wrong._


End file.
